Xtermination
by panache2005
Summary: What happens when the Flock encounters the X-Men?
1. Chapter 1

**So here is the stuff:**

**I wrote a story with this plot line a few months ago. Then, I accidentally deleted it. Don't ask why. Don't ask how. I almost cried. I had over twenty chapters and over three hundred reviews. Seriously. Depression.**

**So I'm giving it another go. The plot is changed a little bit, but don't let that kill your opinion of it. Just read. And maybe review. **

"You know what would be really cool?" Gazzy says, spitting food all over the table. We're sitting in the food court of a museum he, Angel, and Nudge really wanted to go to. Since the only thing on today's schedule is avoiding any and all Erasers and/or other malignant beings, we're not exactly busy, thank God.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth," Nudge grouches, wiping chewed french fry off her arm.

"What's that, Gazzy?" I say, checking out the exhibit of a herd of stuffed mammoths behind him. You gotta love taxedermy.

"To meet a mutant." He dips another french fry into his ketchup.

Shock leaves my mouth hanging open. Is he in serious denial? Is he stupid? Or, worse: did the School somehow wipe out his memory?

"Are you kidding me?" Iggy asks in disbelief. Fang raises his eyebrows (whoa!).

"Not ones like us." Gazzy rolls his eyes as if _we're _the ones with mental issues. "I mean, the kind of mutant who's born with his powers, not the fake ones, like us."

Ah. It's a great feeling, being reduced from orphan (ish) mutant freak to _faux_ orphan-ish mutant freak. Drinks all around.

It seems that ever since we managed to escape the media (after what felt like years they finally stopped hypothesizing about those weird winged kids), new mutants took our place. Everywhere I look nowadays--TV, newspaper, whatever--the only thing I see is mutants. Mutant Rights Vetoed! Mutants Under Constant Surveillance! Mutants Incarcerated! Hip Hip Hooray!

"Max?" I look to see Angel pulling softly on my shirt. "I think you should look at those people over there." She points. At a table in front of us and to the left are a group of about six people. On one side are a bunch of leather-jacket sporting, greasy-haired hoods. One has an unlit cigarette in his hand. On the other side are three other, much more eccentric, people. It's not the way they dress, though the girl does have white streaks in her, but probably the weird presence they have. They just look unnatural and out of place.

"They're mutants," Angel whispers. "I'm sure of it."

One is definitely not that bad looking, with spiked blond hair and _very _nice eyes. He has his arm draped across the shoulders of the white-streaked girl, who in turn is glaring at the one sitting next to her. He's flicking a lighter on and off. His mousy brown hair is greased back. He's got an arrogant smirk on his face that makes me immediately want to hit him.

"I'll ask one more time," the hood with the cigarette says.

"It's a simple question," his friend adds, just as menacingly.

"And I'll give you a simple answer," the mutant with the lighter says.

The smoker hood glares. "Do you...have...a light?" he draws out slowly, voice icy.

The lighter mutant looks up, like he's thinking hard about the question. "Sorry, pal. Can't help ya."

"Knock it off, John," the girl says worriedly.

"Please," her boyfriend annunciates, flicking his gaze anxiously towards the hoods.

"Sorry, guys," John says, smiling smugly. "Besides the fact that this is clearly marked as a non-smoking environment I couldn't bear knowing that I contributed to this young man's slow, tumor-ridden death."

Just as he flicks the lighter closed, the smoker reaches out and grabs it in a quick motion. John startles, snatching for the lighter, but he holds it just out of his grip.

"Whatcha gonna do?" the other hood asks. He pauses, waiting for a reaction. "Not so tough now, are ya?" The smoker smiles and lights his cigarette, blowing the smoke into John's face.

His eyes glaze over with fury. Suddenly, the ember from the cigarette seems to blow up, setting fire to the smoker's jacket. "Aah!" he yells, falling over.

The blond jumps up and reaches his hand out. To my amazement, ice streams from his palm, putting out the blaze. Everyone in the food court goes silent, gaping at this display.

"Jesus," I hear Fang say under his breath. Out of the corner of my eye I see a man in a wheelchair approaching. Everyone stands still, and I realize none of them are moving. They're frozen, but not from the ice. They're just...standing there. Unmoving. A girl on her cell phone has her mouth half-open, in mid-sentence. A man drinking out of a soda can is poised in the act, while the soda splashes all over his neck.

And I realize that none of my Flock, nor John, Blondie and Girlfriend, nor the wheelchair-ed man nor a cluster of about twenty other kids are frozen.

"The next time you feel like showing off," the man in the wheelchair says, glaring at the three teenagers, "don't." His attention is caught at the sound of the TV. I look over there, too. It's turned to a news station. The headline reads: Presidential Assassination Attempt by Mutant.

A man wearing a cool pair of shades comes up behind him. "Professor, I think it's time to go."

He nods. "I think you're right." As they exit the building, I look around at my Flock. "Follow 'em? Yay or nay."

A chorus of yays, followed by one pathetic nay by guess who.

"C'mon."


	2. Chapter 2

By the time we're outside I see the mutant kids all driving away in a bus. My first thought is, wow, that's all a lot of mutant kids going to the same school.

On the rear of the bus are the words XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR THE GIFTED. Any normal human being would think, oh, a school for geniuses. Great. But if you're not human...

Angel turns to me, delight on her face, and says, "Max!! Oh my gosh, it's a MUTANT SCHOOL."

Nudge and Gazzy squeal (if his voice were any higher only dogs could hear it) and I even see Iggy sigh a little bit. But Fang is the opposite of relieved. "Are they crazy?!" he demands, staring hard after the bus. "That's asking for an ambush! Or a straight-up attack! How could they be so stupid?"

"Maybe it's an etiquette school for how not to be a mutant," Iggy suggests, sarcastic as always. "Y'know, I hear it's all the rage having normal kids these days."

"Shut up Iggy," I snap.

Nudge has turned her big, brown, horse-like eyes up into my face. "Max, it's a whole school filled with people like us! Can you believe it?" Before I can respond she's off like a shot. "No more hiding, scavenging for food, or fighting! We can have friends and be around people without feeling weird! We can..." As she rattles off it suddenly hits me: Nudge is twelve. She's at that stage where the most important thing to her is having friends and just being around people she can talk to. For her entire life she's been around the same five people, her family, but it's not the same as having a BFF she can call up and pour her soul into.

"No way," Fang cuts her off. "We've dealt with this before. We don't need school."

"'_We_?'" I cross my arms and glare at him.

"Yes, _we_," he responds icily, matching my glare eye for eye.

We could stand there glaring at each other all day, but suddenly I felt a tug on my sleeve. "I'm hungry," says Gazzy, delivering his best poor-pitiful-me look.

"You just had lunch!" I say in disbelief.

"I'm a growing kid! See?" He pushes up his sleeve and lift his forearm, flexing it. He's done this before, but to my absolute shock this time I see the start of a bicep pop out from his skinny arm.

"Uh, I don't know if I'm growing yet but I'm kinda hungry too," Angel says.

"Me too," Nudge says.

Iggy stares at his feet. "Same," he mutters guiltily.

I soften. "Ok. That's fine." I reach into my pocket and pull out some bills. "We have..." I feel my shoulders slump. "Three dollars." Damn, that museum food was freakin' expensive!

"Did you count change yet?" Fang sneers.

I turn my head and glare at him. The rest of my hungry flock do the same, and pretty soon it's all four of us against the one militant soldier.

My stomach growls. I know Fang hears it but he bears no response. I realize he's not changing his mind.

It's getting dark.

"Okay," I say, grinding my jaw. "Fang, I'm not standing here all night starving myself. You know where we'll be."

* * *

I'm still in a pissy mood when we take off. Fang is still standing stubbornly outside that stupid museum as people file out around him, muttering angrily about how mutants are ruining their lives. To be able to just stand there listening to these hundreds of morons put down his own kind while he watches the people he loves most in the world flying away means he's very set in his opinions.

I say sucks for him. While he's standing there in the sweltering New York heat with a rumbly tummy we're gonna be at mutant school.

Yay.

After a few miles of flight down a highway we spot the bus heading down a secluded looking exit. We follow, flying recklessly at a low five hundred feet. The landscape is gorgeous, with green grass spreading as far as I can see, even at th is height. There are trees of every kind lining the road. The bus approaches a fancy but heavy-duty wrought iron gate with a brick fence sprawling in either direction. The gate opens, and the bus passes through.

We follow.

The landscape gets even more classy. Beautiful gardens with every color flower you can imagine. I see basketball courts, a pond with boats at the dock, a track and football field, a baseball diamond...all of these surround an amazing mansion. I really can't describe it. It's made of elegant stone, with high windows. It's practically a castle. I even see a spire poking up. Behind the mansion is a lawn surrounded by flowers, trimmed hedges, and some benches with a fountain in the center.

Overall, I would definitely not mind living here. But I don't just want to turn up and say "Hey, we're mutants!! We're gonna be staying here for a while, hope you don't mind!!" I signal for us to land in a spot about a half-mile away from the mansion.

"Sooo," I say, sitting cross-legged and pulling out the grass around me (why is that so addicting?!?!). "How should we do this? We're six kids..."

"Five," Nudge corrects me.

I glare at her. "_Five _kids who eat a ton, take up a lot of space, don't like school, and get into fights. A lot."

"Who, me?" Angel widens her baby blues and gives me a look that is so innocent, so charming, I want to cry.

I heave a sigh. "Not to mention a little girl who will probably just convince her teachers to give her As anyway. So, any ideas?"

We sit around thinking for a few minutes. Nudge suggests we tell them the truth. Iggy and Gazzy laugh so hard they almost throw up on each other.

"What?" Nudge demands. "C'mon guys, the truth will set you free, right? RIGHT?"

"You bet your ass it would," someone growls behind me. I leap up and whirl around.

Standing there is a man. He has wild hair and side burns, and a wolf-like snarl on his face.

And...he's got knives.

"Max!" Angel suddenly screams. I turn around to face her. There's a vein throbbing in her forehead, and she's grabbing at her hair. "There's someone in my head!" she's screaming. "Get him out!"

Before I can do anything something massive runs up behind me. I try spinning away but, quick as lightning, he reaches an arm around my waist and with his free hand points his knives at my throat.

None of us, aside from Angel, who's crouching on the ground in shock, move. "Do something!" I say, my jaw clenched with anger and fear.

"Max," Nudge whispers hoarsely. "Look at his hands."


	3. Chapter 3

"We're not your enemies!" I say, struggling in Mr. Knives' grip. Oh, wait, I spoke too soon. Turns out it's not Mr. Knives, it's Mr. _Claws_. What I thought were some bad-ass knives were actually blades protruding from his knuckles.

"Oh yeah?" he says. "What are you doing so close to the school? Coming to throw rocks through the windows and graffiti the walls like the other delinquents in town?"

"No!"

"Max!" Angel is curled up in a ball, clutching her head. Gazzy runs over and kneels at her side, but he can't do much.

"Let me go!" I say, bending my knee and jabbing backwards with my foot. I feel it hit its mark (his kneecap) but he's unfazed.

"Listen, kid," he says in my ear. "I have orders not to hurt you or your little friends, but I can't promise anything if you do that again."

"Orders? From who?"

"Go take care of your friend," he says, avoiding my question. "But don't do anything stupid." He shoves me forward. I stumble, catch myself, and run towards Angel. Iggy and Nudge are too busy staring at the man, jaws hitting the ground.

"Guys!" I yell, trying to get their attention. The three of us rush over to where Angel and Gazzy are. "This was a mistake," I say quietly as we examine her.

Iggy makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. "I hate it when Fang's right."

"Me too."

Angel is still grabbing at her head, but her eyes are open and have a very slight look of understanding in them. She mutters something.

"What?"

"He says not to be scared."

"Who's 'he'?" Nudge says suspiciously

_Me._

All four of us jump as the voice reverberates in our minds. I don't even have to ask the flock if they've heard it too; the freaked out expressions on their faces mirrors the one I know I'm wearing.

_I apologize about Logan; he's merely doing his job. We've had some problems lately with vandals targeting the school. I want you to know that all six of your are safe here._

He said six. He knows there's one more of us.

_Tell Logan that the professor has contacted you and that he requests your company in my office. Do it now. He's getting impatient._

Iggy turns to the man. "The professor told us to tell Logan that he wants to see us in his office," he says automatically.

"I'm not..." the man says, before closing his eyes for a few seconds. Then he opens them again. "Fine," he says angrily. He turns around and starts walking brisky toward the mansion. We watch him go. After walking a few feet he turns back around. "Come on!" he says impatiently.

"What do we do?" Nudge whispers as Iggy and Gazzy help Angel up.

I want to leave. But then I remember we have no money. Looks like tonight's dinner will be coming from trash cans until we can find some more wallets to "borrow". And we'll be sleeping in a tree, with one of us keeping watch every couple of hours.

I'm sick of that.

"Let's go," I say, starting after him.

* * *

An hour after they leave I'm still in the parking lot of that stupid museum, where I hadn't even wanted to go to in the first place. I'm sitting on a bench, watching some people get into their cars. There's a little kid who's crying because he dropped his ice cream cone on his mom's feet. His mom looks like she's about to cry too.

I don't know what I'm gonna do. I'm not ditching the Flock forever, but I need some time to think. I'm so pissed I can't even see straight. How could they be stupid enough to run off and join a mutant school? What's the purpose of that? We were fine on our own. Yeah, things got a little tense sometimes, but what's life without some conflict?

My stomach growls. I check my pockets for some cash and come up with two quarters. There's a gumball machine in the museum someone--I saw it near the mammoths. I get back up and slip by the guards at the entrance. I walk to the display and get two gumballs--green and pink. That's manly. I put both in my mouth and work them into a nice, chewy ball.

"Hey."

I don't even need to turn around to know that it's Max talking. I've been living with her for all my sixteen years--I could pick her voice out of a crowd of a million people.

"What are you doing here?" I say, focusing my attention on the mammoths.

Out of the corner of my eye she shrugs. "It wasn't what I'd thought it would be." She tugs on my sleeve. "C'mon, we're all waiting outside."

I follow her out the doors. I look around for Iggy--since he's the tallest he's usually the first one I see, after Max--but don't see him. The only person around is some huge guy walking around behind us. That's when the first little warning bell goes off.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know," she says, shrugging again. "Maybe they went to the bathroom."

Second warning bell. She would never be so careless about the Flock.

A van speeds up to the curb and the doors swing open. Some weird-looking guy with a greenish tinge to his skin is driving. In the passenger seat is a man who looks very old, but very strong. "Hello Fang," he says, looking right at me. He smiles at Max.

"Who are these people?" I say, backing up cautiously.

"It's okay," she says, looking into my eyes and smiling. Her chocolate brown eyes flash yellow.

Panic makes me turn around and run. I haven't even gone three steps when something huge slams into me, knocking me over. I yell as I'm pushed into the van. As I register what's happening to me I look into the face of my attacker. He has long shaggy hair, and wolfish features. His teeth, which are bared, are long and pointy. He snarls, and some of his spit drips onto my shirt.

"Ugh!" I yell, kicking and flailing my legs. It's all I can do. I look over his shoulder and see "Max" jumping into the van before slamming the doors

"Good job," says the old man in front.

"Get off of me!" I snarl, lashing out with my foot. It connects with "Max"'s knee. She just stares at me, before laughing. "Take him out," she says.

A fist connects with the side of my head, and everything goes dark.


	4. Chapter 4

If I thought the outside of the mansion was plush, the inside blew my mind completely. There were beautiful paintings and statues placed throughout the rooms along with expensive-looking furniture that looked incredibly inviting (years of sleeping in trees will do that to you). There were countless doors and hallways and I wondered how any of the students milling in the hallways knew how to get around.

And speaking of the students, I'd never, ever seen such a...well, such a _different _crowd of people. It's not that they looked any different from your average person, but they gave off a different kind of vibe. They seemed almost like a different kind of human. It was the first time in my life that I ever felt normal, like the huge wings on my back didn't distinguish me from them at all.

I caught a few of them staring in our direction and giving us weird looks. That's nice.

Despite the weirdness of all the students it wasn't hard to see that there were some of them who came from money. You could see it in their clothes and the way they held themselves. I hoped we wouldn't have to deal with any snobby rich kids. I hate those.

"Hurry up," Logan said gruffly, and I realized that I'd been lingering in the hallway while everyone else had filed into an elevator. He pressed a button and we shot up, coming to an abrupt stop on the third floor. The elevator opened right into an office. There was a man sitting behind the desk. He looked up when we came in and smiled, and immediately I knew that wherever this man was, we would be safe.

"Welcome," he said warmly. "I'm Professor Xavier, and I want you to know that you are all welcome here." He made direct eye contact with me. "You are Max, I presume."

I startled when my eyes locked with his. It was almost like I could feel him probing my mind. "Uh, yeah," I mumbled. Logan elbowed me. "I mean, yes sir. Thank you."

"But I saw six of you at the museum. Where, may I ask, is..." Here he stopped and closed his eyes for a moment. "...Fang?"

"He..." I hesitated.

"He's being a butthead," Angel finished helpfully. "He didn't want to come. He thought a place like this would be dangerous."

Xavier smiled again, but I noticed that this time his eyes looked worried. Immediately a warning bell went off in my head.

"Then we'll have to find him and reassure him, won't we?" he said to Angel, who smiled brightly back at him. "Now, if you all don't mind, I need to talk to Max in private for a moment."

I felt Iggy bristle next to me. Xavier turned to him. "I didn't think you'd like that. However, it's important that I have all of your trust. I would never do anything to hurt any of you. Whether or not you want to stay here is completely up to you."

"I know, but...well, we've been betrayed before," Nudge said quietly.

Xavier's eyes darkened. "I know," he said. "And you need never worry about being betrayed again, by any staff at this school. Now if you'll excuse us just for a moment."

I nodded to them. "It's fine," I said.

Xavier turned to them. "If you go down to level 1 and turn left down the hallway you'll end up in the kitchen," he said. "You may help yourselves. Logan, please stay."

After the Flock had left, Xavier folded his hands. "Now Max," he said. "What do you know about the Brotherhood?"

"Who?"

"You won't like hearing this," he said. "But I have reason to believe that Fang is in danger."

Immediately every muscle in my body tensed. "What?" I said sharply. "What do you know about Fang that you haven't told me?"

He made a strange movement then and it was at that moment that I realized he was in a wheelchair. He wheeled out from behind his desk and approached me.

"Max, you must not act irrationally when I tell you what I've learned. But I have the means to touch on the minds of every mutant in the world. And I believe that the Brotherhood has abducted your friend."

* * *

I woke up with a throbbing pain in my temples and a rage that I'd never felt before in my body. I was sitting in a weird metal chair with my wrists and ankles strapped to its arms and legs. I was in a weird-looking room; it was dark and cold.

"He's awake!" I heard someone yell. Then suddenly a figure hopped into my line of vision. "Hello bird-boy. Did you have a nice nappy-nap?" It was the guy who'd been driving the van. His skin looked especially green and disgusting up-close and his breath made me gag. His face was probably two inches away from mine.

"Get away from me!" I said, trying to lunge at him but held firmly in place by the straps.

He backed off a little. "Haha," he said, smiling. "You can't touch me." Then he made a weird sound in the back of his throat and spit a green slime into my eyes.

"Ugh!" My eyes burned; I was blinded. I heard the weird guy chuckling in my ear.

"Enough, Toad!" a man's voice commanded. The green slime was wiped off and I blinked, trying to hold back the tears that came automatically from my stinging eyes. "Is that any way to treat a guest?"

"Guest?" I said, my voice hoarse with rage. I looked up at the man's face; he was old, and his hair was grey. His eyes were steel-blue.

"Welcome, Fang," he said, smiling coldly. "My name is Magneto, and I have a proposition for you."


End file.
